


Blanketed

by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Fireplaces, M/M, Power Outage, Short & Sweet, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superagentwolf/pseuds/exactly13percent
Summary: A week before Christmas, Neil and Andrew are snowed in.





	Blanketed

Neil wakes to find Andrew’s head tucked between his neck and shoulder. His breath is soft on Neil’s cheek. It whispers gently, a hot tickle, and all Neil wants to do is turn and curl against Andrew. It’s cold.

It’s too cold.

He can feel the chill biting his cheeks and he frowns, glancing toward the window. Andrew always makes sure to close it when he’s done smoking.

There’s a warning at the back of his mind. The thought that maybe a window is broken elsewhere, or the front door is ajar, and someone stole their things, but that doesn’t make sense. He would have woken up. Neil curls his hands under the sheets, open-close.

He always feels a peculiar ache in his hands, when it’s a little too cold. A reminder of the scarred circles and lines that crisscross his skin. He peers blearily at them before deciding he should probably risk the cold to figure out what’s going on with the temperature.

Andrew only mutters halfheartedly when Neil slides away. For once, he is too tired to wake. Or maybe too cold. Neil drapes an extra blanket over him before he leaves.

❄

The little cabin is technically Allison’s. The main house is her getaway property, and the Fox alumni regularly gather there. This year, most of them are traveling; they won’t arrive for another week. Until then, Andrew and Neil have the space to themselves.

Neil passes framed photographs on his way out of the bedroom. Pictures of the team in their gear, candid shots from road trips, printed versions of social media images that went viral. There are ones of previous Christmases and New Years, too. It’s nice to follow the hallway and see the evolution. Jeremy and Jean one year, Kevin and Jeremy and Jean the next. Renee and Allison near one another, then hugging and laughing. Erik popping up in every other image.

The floor creaks a little as Neil walks. It’s not unsettling, though. It’s reassuring. Lived-in. He shuffles into the living room and peers at the thermostat, frowning, and sees nothing but a blank electronic screen.

_Ah._

The power is out.

He checks the fridge and stove just in case, but it is quickly apparent that there is no power. Also, he cannot see properly out the windows, because everything is a blaze of blinding white. There’s a snowstorm.

“No wonder it’s so cold,” he murmurs, and then he considers what to do. He doesn’t have to make a choice alone, though.

Andrew’s awake.

❄

The first thing that he finds unacceptable is Neil’s absence. Andrew begins to feel it like a creeping ache in his chest that rings hollow. He curls into himself and realizes only a moment later that there is nothing else keeping him warm. No body, rather.

Andrew opens his eyes and squints in the dim room. It’s early; perhaps six in the morning. He does not want to be awake, but he is, and he realizes a beat later that it is too cold.

He considers that Neil went for a run, but that’s not right. Not in this weather. Neil hasn’t left the cabin for the past two days.

Andrew’s second thought is that something has happened. He shoves that thought away as unhelpful and rolls out of bed. He takes the top blanket with him, because the cold is unacceptable as well.

There’s noise in the living room. Quiet socks against hardwood floors. Andrew comes upon Neil standing by the couch, a pleasantly unworried expression on his face. When he turns, Andrew watches the contemplation slip away.

Neil doesn’t try to hide anything. Not anymore, anyway. He is completely open when he looks at Andrew, a small half-smile curving his lips. Neil’s blue eyes should not be warm, but they are, and he brightens a little when he sees Andrew, as if he is glowing. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” Andrew turns to look at the thermostat; it is too early to completely face Neil, or the way he looks at Andrew. Perhaps two years are not enough, yet. “Broken?”

“Storm,” Neil corrects, tucking his arms against his chest as he stares out the window. “The power is completely out.”

Andrew contemplates the scene. There is a fireplace in the living room and wood stacked by the door. It might be enough for the day, but if the storm doesn’t let up, they will have to try and make it out the back door to bring in more.

He is about to suggest something when Neil uncurls his arms, his nose already red from the chill. “Let’s start a fire.”

“That is not comforting, coming from you.”

Neil’s eyes crinkle at the corners but he does not reply. He leans over to slide the grate away from the fireplace and Andrew runs a hand along the piled wood, testing. It should work.

❄

Fire doesn’t exactly bother him anymore. Not the way it used to.

Especially not when Andrew is there, his mouth a flat line of concentration as he watches the logs shift and crackle.

“We need more blankets,” Neil decides. He stands and goes to the hallway, where there are more piled in the closet. They are all soft and luxurious.

Andrew likes blankets. He somehow manages to run cold, despite his metabolism and muscle. Neil makes a regular habit of finding Andrew around their apartment and draping blankets on him. One time, he reached six before Andrew noticed.

On his way back, Neil checks all the doors. Closes them to ensure the fire heats things properly. He carries the blankets unfolded, four of them, and drops them over Andrew when he comes into the living room.

Andrew’s voice is muffled. “I could throw you outside.”

“You could,” Neil agrees. He smiles to himself and goes back to the bedroom for pillows.

The living room carpet is soft. With enough added bedding, it becomes a warm den. Neil has extra socks in his pocket, shoved there for Andrew. He waits until after he dumps things on the ground to pull them out. Neil sits on the ground, offering a hand, and waits for Andrew to extend his legs.

Neil pulls the socks on while Andrew watches and adds, “They wouldn’t find your body until the summer.”

“Everyone will be here in a week, and they’ll know it was you.”

❄

Neil is warm. He runs warm; so warm his skin almost burns. Andrew has never understood that, but he does not need to understand to like it.

He does like it. That is one word that escaped him, before. It has taken time to venture into using it, but he allows the word, now. It is not as heavy as other words that begin with the same letter.

The fire is warming the living room. It creeps toward them steadily and Andrew has abandoned two of his blankets to cover Neil, propped up against a pile of pillows and the comforter spread beneath them. They could be in bed still, fit together like puzzle pieces in a way that should not be possible.

Andrew turns his head into the crook of Neil’s neck and shoulder. He likes the smell of body wash and shampoo. Skin. A living reminder that Neil is here; they are both here. They _are_.

“Maybe I could make popcorn over the fire,” Neil muses lazily. He is petting Andrew in a way that should be repulsive, fingers in his hair. It just feels nice. Andrew likes it.

“You would make a mess.”

“Then you’d do it?”

Andrew frowns a little. It’s a stupid joke. “If you want.”

Neil’s hand pauses. Andrew has given a little too much away. Somehow, though, he cannot find it in himself to give a shit.

He likes this, damn it.

“I want you to be warm,” Neil finally says. He turns his body a little; enough to hold Andrew closer. “And happy.”

“I would be, if you stopped moving.”

Neil laughs quietly. His breath is soft on Andrew’s cheek and maybe that is it—maybe the proximity, or the words, or the warmth between them.

_Something_ makes Andrew lean in, and if it is liking Neil or liking the warmth, it doesn’t matter.

❄

Andrew’s kiss is surprising. Neil returns it softly, because the warmth of the fire makes everything move slower, and it makes him want to slow time until this moment lasts forever.

It doesn’t last forever, but it lasts some time, and Neil knows it will happen again, so he is content. He is content to hold Andrew by the fire and share warmth with him.

There is no power and there’s a storm outside, but here, they are safe with one another.

They always are.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the giftee enjoys this, as well as everyone else! It was a nice break from writing heavy plots and angst.


End file.
